If Only Time Would Stand Still
by Wilde Phyre
Summary: Draco and Harry are together, but will they have a happy ending? Major Angst ::SLASH WARNING::


**Title: **If Only Time Would Stand Still

Author: Wilde Phyre

**Pairing: **Draco X Harry

**Rating:** M

**Summary: **The war has been fought and won, Draco and Harry are together, but will they have a happy ending?

**Disclaimer: **I do not own anything or anyone from the Harry Potter universe. I am a uni student. I am broke. Do not sue me.

**Warning: **THIS IS **SLASH**!

**Authors Note:** I read a story by "Omi" from the "Prince of Tennis" fandom, and was inspired to create this little piece. Hoped it worked out. Please Read and Review!

* * *

**IF ONLY TIME WOULD STAND STILL:**

"I am to be married at the end of the year." Draco announced coolly.

He was standing in the middle of their London apartment, impeccably dressed in muggle clothes, a crisp black shirt matched with designer jeans. His face carefully arranged in an impenetrable mask, the thing only giving him away were his hands, clenching and unclenching agitatedly by his side.

Harry blinked, unsure of how he was supposed to respond. "Congratulations", he finally blurted out.

Draco's lips twisted into an ugly smirk, cruel and mocking. "Thankyou," he said, "though personally, I don't think it's anything to be happy about." Moodily, he stalked over to the window and glared sullenly at the people below, milling around, going about their business, totally unaware that in the luxurious apartment above them, two hearts breaking, shattering into a million pieces. "She's one of the Lestranges from Europe. Her father is one of the ministers over there. She's been deemed a very suitable match for the only heir of the Malfoy family." _or at least that's what Father thinks_, was left unsaid.

Harry remained silent.

It was to be expected really, an inevitable conclusion to their turbulent liaison, for so many reasons.

They were both male, not that Harry minded, but Draco was the last remaining heir of the Malfoys, one of the oldest and most established families in the wizarding world. There were certain obligations and responsibilities to be met. Responsibilities, which Harry knew, Draco would refuse to shy away from.

Stupid, to think that they could stay together.

But.

He thought they would have more time.

He thought he could hold the world off a little longer.

He thought he could let go when the time came.

The time was here _now_, and Harry realised that he couldn't have been more wrong. They didn't have more time, and he sure as hell could not let go. He had allowed himself to be so blinded by the happiness he had found in the small paradise, which he and Draco had created together after the war, that he had failed to notice the world slowly creeping in, until now. Now, when it was too late.

Draco swung around to face him. "They've picked out the date already, December 20. Will you be there?"

Draco walked over to Harry and made to bend, to touch, but hesitated.

Harry stared into those once familiar grey eyes, made strange by the glint of desperation he now saw in them. He willed himself to remain silent.

With a final, lingering look, Draco straightened without touching Harry and walked out the door, not once turning back.

Days passed, and then weeks. The weather turned cool and still, Harry refused to return to the wizdarding world, which had once given him refuge. He had taken up a job as a waiter in a small café below his dingy apartment in the Soho district. The money wasn't good, but he was getting by.

Hermione and Ron visited him occasionally. They were uncertain of the exact cause of Harry's self-imposed exile, but correctly guessed that it had something to do with their old Slytherin rival. The arrogant blonde, who once was a familiar sight, had all but disappeared. They understood that Harry was reluctant to return, but over the following months, Hermione and Ron managed to coax Harry into visiting the Leaky Cauldron with them semi-regularly.

It was on such an occasion that they ran into an old friend from their Hogwarts days.

Justin Finch-Fletchley strolled causally over to them, glass in hand, nodding politely. Justin had started to work for the Ministry of Magic after leaving school, rapidly rising through the ranks, until now, just a few short years later, becoming the private sectary to the minister himself.

"How are you, Justin?" Hermione asked politely, trying hard to not laugh at the pompous way the Hufflepuff boy held himself.

Justin lifted an elegant shoulder, showing off his new designer robe. "Ah, same old, same old..." he drawled. "Someone's getting married tomorrow, though." He said, lifting his glass to his lips. Brown eyes flickered towards the silent Harry. "The most anticipated wedding of the year."

There was a brief moment of silence, before Ron deftly came back with a rejoinder "Ah…so Lavender's finally decided to make an honest man out of you, hey? What did you do? Get her pregnant?"

Justin choked, spewing his butter beer all over himself and onto half the table. In the general scramble for napkins and cleaning up, the earlier announcement was forgotten and Justin was dragged back to his table by his ministry friends.

"Oh Harry……" Hermione said, looking him.

"You silly git," Ron admonished him gently, "why didn't you say something?"

Harry looked across the table at his best friends, reading the pity in their eyes. He hated it. He pushed away from the table. "Excuse me," he said, before walking out, ignoring sounds of protest.

He didn't know where he was going, but by the time he could think clearly enough to focus, Harry found himself standing outside the apartment that he and Draco had once shared.

The door swung open on his touch, as if it were waiting for him to return, after all these months.

It was dark inside, with only the ambient light of the city streets streaming in the window. White dustsheets covered all the furniture, giving the entire place an eerie, ghostly look. The once familiar apartment had never looked or felt so empty.

Slowly, Harry made his way into their old bedroom, memories of the not-so-distant past flooding his head. Pulling off the covers, Harry lowered himself onto the bed and lay there, spread-eagled and still, trying to recapture Draco's scent, which he was certain was infused into pillows and sheets.

He felt, rather than heard when the presence entered the room. Green eyes opened to find cool grey ones peering down at him from above.

"It's my last night of freedom."

The sex that night was rough and frantic. Desperate.

Harry covered Draco's body with bruising kisses, determined to leave his mark, and Draco was more than happy to oblige. He left his own marks on Harry, breaking the skin on his shoulder with a sharp nip.

It was their last night together.

When Harry woke up the next morning, Draco was already gone.

* * *

Everyone agreed that the "wedding of the year" lived up to it's reputation. The elegant bride looked resplendent in a dazzling gown made of the finest white water silk, whilst her handsome groom stood beside, graciously accepting the infinite number of congratulations coming from the excited guests.

If the smile looked a bit forced, people put it down to the last minute nerves, which surely every groom, even the arrogant Draco Malfoy, would have before his wedding.

Hardly anyone noticed the quiet, green-eyed boy who slipped into the hall at the last minute, taking his place at the very back, taking care to be as unobtrusive as possible.

He watched silently from afar, his eyes fastened to the groom, as he took his bride's hand, and led her up the aisle to where the master-of-ceremonies waited.

Silently, Harry imagines himself holding his hand out to Draco, _"Will you run away with me?"_

And in his heart, Draco replies, _"Yes",_ even as the bride says, 'I do'.

**Fini **

_A/N: What did everyone think! I almost started crying when I finished writing this. So sad………For some reason, I always end up writing really angsty fics………they usually have a much happier ending though. PLEASE R & R! _


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